


somewhere we'll never be found

by SailorChibi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Broken Promises, Evil Bucky Barnes, Gen, Kidnapping, Miscommunication, Not A Fix-It, Platonic Hugging, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, and not in the fun sexy way, bucky barnes who likes being the winter soldier, bucky kidnaps tony, but steve gets there in time, no one in the MCU knows HOW to talk to each other, no one in the MCU talks to each other, not bucky barnes friendly, not team Cap friendly, steve realizes that he's seeing tony through a bad lens, steve rogers is oblivious, steve rogers learns to listen, taking steps towards some kind of reconciliation, the winter soldier is not the bucky that steve remember, tony stark gets kidnapped, tony stark is not paranoid, you're not paranoid if they're out to get you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Ever since the Avengers came home with Bucky in tow, Tony could tell that something was wrong. There was something off about Barnes. Too bad Steve didn't want to listen before Barnes snapped.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon who wanted an evil Bucky trying to destroy Tony because Tony's the only one who can see through him. Writing Bucky as evil isn't my first instinct, but it's interesting.

The hardest thing about being at Avengers Tower (Stark Tower?) was that, on the surface, nothing had changed. Steve's bedroom still looked exactly the same as it had eight months ago. The pair of jeans he'd been wearing that fateful day had still been in a heap on the floor when he first walked back in. It was everything else that was difference, and the room that had once seemed so comforting now frequently felt stifling. Steve made it a point to spend as little time in his bedroom as possible, instead preferring to join the rest of the team on the communal floor.

Well. Most of the team.

None of them minded that Tony was avoiding them, least of all Steve. They could work together just fine out on the field without having to talk to each other anywhere else, after all. And frankly, Steve was hardly eager to give Tony any opportunity to shove the accords back into his face. The only way for the Avengers to come back together was if they gave in and signed an amended version of the accords. It burned. God, it burned. It went against every ounce of Steve's beliefs, and signing his name to the bottom of that paper had felt a little like signing his soul away. It also felt like he was letting Tony win, and he genuinely wasn't sure which was worse.

But there was a silver lining, and that was that Steve had been able to bring Bucky home with him. For Bucky, Steve could swallow just about anything, including his pride. Especially since he knew that Tony was _not_ comfortable with having Bucky around, which may have been part of the reason he was so set on avoiding the team. It was an asshole move, probably even a little cruel, to delight in using his best friend as a weapon to be rubbed in someone else's face for a change, but Steve had never claimed to not be a spiteful man. He'd take wins where he could get them.

Even something as simple as walking into the kitchen and seeing Bucky sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a banana with a deeply betrayed look, could make Steve's whole day turn around. Probably because there was a time not so long ago when Steve hadn't even dared to think that this could be a reality, and it was happening. He walked over to the coffee pot, pausing just long enough to clap Bucky on the shoulder, before he grabbed his mug down out of the cupboard. The mugs had been moved up to the top again, he noted with amusement. That would be Clint, deliberately putting them where Tony had trouble reaching.

"Want some coffee, Buck?" he said out loud, pouring himself a cup. The coffee in the tower was a hell of a lot better than the coffee anywhere else, Steve had to admit. Tony liked it brewed strong. 

"Do I like coffee?" Bucky asked, looking up with wide eyes. It was an expression that broke Steve's heart. They'd had this conversation over a hundred times now, but there were days when Bucky's memory was comparable to a sieve and he had difficulty recalling the simplest of things. 

"Yeah, you do. Here, I'll get it for you." Steve grabbed another mug, poured it three-quarters full of coffee, and added a generous pour of cream. He liked doing things like this for Bucky. After all of the shit that Bucky had been through, nothing Steve could do would ever be enough. Sometimes he tried to comfort himself with the thought that at least Bucky was away from Hydra, and that at least Steve was trying. It was cold comfort.

He offered the mug with cream to Bucky, who accepted it and took a careful sip. Bucky broke out into a grin. "That is good!"

"Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me going," Steve agreed, sitting down in a chair. Caffeine didn't have the same effect on him - the serum metabolized it too quickly - but he liked the taste. At the end of the day, sometimes a good cup of coffee was all he had to look forward to.

"You mean I'm not enough to keep you going?" Bucky asked, smile turning sly.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Not nearly enough," he lied. Bucky was the reason he got out of bed in the morning. Bucky needed someone to fight for him, and Steve was never giving up on him again.

"I'll remember that next time Clint puts dye in your shampoo," Bucky said. He stood up, cradling his mug. "Thanks, Stevie. I think I'm supposed to... uh, I'm supposed to be. Somewhere. I think." He frowned for a moment, staring straight ahead, then said doubtfully, "Is Natasha around the tower today? Did she ask me to spar with her today?"

"It's Tuesday. You guys always spar on Tuesday," Steve said gently, heart aching. "She's probably waiting for you in the gym. Do you need me to walk you down there?"

"Nah, I got it. Thanks." Bucky headed out of the room. Steve watched him go, worried. At least in the tower he could be fairly sure that nothing bad would happen to Bucky, though he wasn't comfortable with the idea of Tony and Bucky meeting up alone. Who knew what kind of shit Tony might try to pull if he got Bucky by himself? And Bucky might not even know enough to defend himself if it was a bad day, and clearly it was. Bucky and Natasha sparred at least three times a week, and always on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Bucky loved it.

Still, Bucky would get frustrated with him if Steve tried to hover too much. Bucky was adamant about trying to figure things out on his own, and, against Steve's better judgment, he was making it a point to back off a little more. Two weeks ago, he would've shot out of his chair and personally escorted Bucky down to the gym. Now, he sat in his chair and tried not to worry too much. He let a full five minutes pass before he couldn't take the silence any longer and cleared his throat.

"FRIDAY? Did Bucky make it down to the gym?"

"Yes. He is getting ready to spar with Romanov."

"Thank god," Steve muttered under his breath, draining the rest of his coffee. He pushed himself up, intending to pour another mugful of coffee, and froze when he saw who was standing in the doorway. 

Tony stared back at him for almost a full minute without moving. His expression was unreadable. Steve met his gaze, refusing to be the first to look away. He wasn't going to give another inch when it came to Tony Stark: he was fed up with having his hands tied and feeling like he'd been backed into a corner. If Steve had his way, Tony wouldn't even be on the team anymore. But they didn't have much choice in the matter. Without SHIELD, Tony was the only person with the kind of money necessary to fund the Avengers.

Finally, Tony spoke. "Do you have a minute to chat?"

Steve blinked, surprised by the question, but nodded and gestured to the table. "Sure. Have a seat? Coffee?"

"No, I'm good," Tony said, which was even more surprising. Tony had never turned down a cup of coffee for as long as Steve had known him. In fact, it used to be that Steve was the one who banned Tony from having any more coffee after Tony would emerge from the workshop after a three day binge. Tony had always pouted and whined while Steve would steer him to bed instead. Steve remembered laughing and shaking his head, wrapping an arm around Tony's shoulders and all but carrying him to bed. 

God, he hadn't thought about Tony like that in months. He took an extra second pouring his second cup of coffee to push that memory away. That was a long time ago, and the relationship between him and Tony had deteriorated way too much for him to be thinking about things like that. He sat at the table, looking at Tony. "What did you need? Is this about the team?"

"Sort of," Tony said slowly. "I wanted to talk about Barnes, actually."

Immediately wary, Steve frowned. "Talk about what?"

Tony's gaze dropped to the table, where Steve's hand had clenched around the mug. "I know you're thinking about putting him on the roster for the team. I overheard Wilson and Barton talking about it. Barton seems to think that the physical activity would be good for him."

"We've discussed it a few times," Steve said, unwilling to say anything more. It was actually Bucky's idea, and Steve was hesitant to turn him down. But at the same time, he wasn't sure Bucky was ready for that. He just hadn't figured out how to share that without making it sound like he thought Bucky was an invalid of some kind.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Tony said bluntly. 

"And why's that? Your accords don't agree with it?" Steve said before he could stop himself.

"No. Barnes hasn't signed the accords yet," Tony said, and it was shocking that he hadn't come back with some kind of retort. Steve eyed him, realizing for the first time that Tony didn't look good. He was pale and kind of thin. There were dark, puffy circles under his eyes, which meant he probably wasn't sleeping. Then again, when weren't there circles under Tony's eyes?

"Then why?" Steve said. It sounded more aggressive than he'd intended, but he was annoyed that Tony thought he had a right to even offer an opinion.

"Because I don't think he's in the right mental place for it," Tony said, very carefully. "Has he looked up any of the therapists from that list?"

"No," Steve said. He wouldn't trust a therapist Tony recommended, and doubted Bucky would either. But it didn't matter. "He's not ready for that yet. I don't want to push him."

"He's not ready for therapy, but you think he's ready to go out in the field?"

The disbelief in Tony's voice, like Steve was being irrational or stupid, stung. Steve scowled. "I said we'd discussed it. I didn't say we'd come to a conclusion," he snapped. "Besides, what happens with Bucky is none of your business."

"Barnes is making it my business," Tony snapped back. "He's not the person you think he is!"

And there it was. "I thought you were past this, Stark."

"Damn it, Steve! This isn't about the vendetta you seem to think I'm holding against Barnes!"

"Isn't it?" Steve said. He got up. "If Bucky goes out onto the field, that will be none of your concern. Believe me, I'll make sure that you two are never within more than five hundred yards of each other." He shot Tony a pointed glance, hoping that Tony would realize that _he_ was the concern, not Bucky. From the way that Tony winced, and then his face took on a hard, cold expression, he got the message.

"Steve," Tony said, just as Steve reached the door. His voice was strained, but there was a note of something else. In anyone else, Steve would've called it pleading.

Against his will, Steve paused and looked back. "What?"

Tony stared at him for another long moment. Then he did something weird: he lifted his right hand and rubbed his left shoulder, as though it pained him. He must have hurt it in the workshop, because Steve had no recollection of Iron Man being hurt in the field. Steve quelled the small flare of concern and instead raised an eyebrow, gesturing impatiently. 

"Never mind," Tony said finally. "Just forget about it."

Steve looked at him a second longer, then shrugged. He walked out of the kitchen and took the elevator down to watch Bucky and Natasha spar for a while. Clint joined them after about half an hour, and even got into the ring with Bucky and Natasha. Steve had forgotten all about Tony's weird behavior by the second time that Bucky had managed to flip Clint over his shoulders, especially after Clint and Natasha tapped out and then it was Bucky against Steve. It was wonderful to be training with Bucky, re-learning how Bucky moved and fought.

He wouldn't have thought about it again, in fact, had FRIDAY not spoken to him about a week later. It was late, and Steve was tired. The team had been called out that day, but Iron Man hadn't shown up. They were left with just Sam providing aerial support, and, with Wanda and Vision away, it just wasn't enough and had forced the whole team recalibrate and work a hell of a lot harder. He'd just finished washing his face and was contemplating going to knock on Bucky's door, since he hadn't seen Bucky all day, when FRIDAY spoke.

"Boss is missing. I have located footage that you need to see."

"Missing?" Steve said, startled. "What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean that he has been kidnapped," FRIDAY said, and Steve had never heard her sound so... so _angry_.

"Are you sure that he hasn't just blown us all off?" Steve said.

By way of response, the television in the corner of Steve's bedroom turned itself on. Steve turned automatically to watch. His eyes widened at the sight of the fuzzy footage. There was Tony, walking down the street and talking into his cell phone. He was dressed in one of his suits, so he was probably on the way to a meeting of some kind. And there, coming up behind him - 

Steve's legs felt weak. He sat down hard on the bed. 

It was Bucky. Bucky was coming up behind Tony. His face was an expressionless mask, the look that frequently haunted Steve's nightmares. He flung his metal arm around Tony's throat and jerked up, nearly lifting Tony off his feet. Tony's eyes bulged and he dropped the phone on the ground. His hands flew to Bucky's arms, but of course weak, human fingers would be no match for vibranium. Tony seemed to realize that; his right hand dropped to his pocket. Bucky smiled and grabbed Tony's right wrist. He effortlessly broke Tony's wrist, tightening his grip on Tony's throat when Tony spasmed in pain. He kept his hold until Tony lost consciousness due to lack of air. Only then did he let Tony go, choosing to throw Tony over his shoulder like a sack of dirt.

The street was unnaturally empty for the middle of an afternoon, devoid of any witnesses. Just a camera from what Steve numbly guessed was an ATM, which Bucky probably hadn't realized even had a camera. He watched as Bucky walked out of sight, carting an unconscious Tony Stark along. 

"Boss has been kidnapped," FRIDAY repeated. "By the Winter Soldier. You have exactly twelve hours to bring him back before I submit this footage to the F.B.I., C.I.A., and the accords council. And those are Boss's parameters, not mine."

There had to be a reason, Steve thought as he scrambled off the bed. He barked out an order for FRIDAY to assemble the team and ran for the door, his mind racing. Maybe the B.A.R.F. system hadn't worked properly, or someone from Hydra had gotten to Bucky. It didn't matter. They had to stop Bucky before he did something else that he would regret.


	2. Chapter 2

Talking to Steve had been a stupid idea. That was the predominant thought in Tony’s head as he watched Steve stalk out of the kitchen for the twentieth time. He sighed to himself and waved the holographic screen showing the footage away, leaning back in his chair to stare at the ceiling, as though the answers to all of his problems had been written there in invisible ink, and Tony might find them if he searched long enough or hard enough.

He’d tried, damnit. He’d done his best to approach the conversation about Barnes from a neutral standpoint, keeping his temper and aiming for a logical argument that not even Steve could ignore. Stupid. Tony should’ve known better than that. Steve was predisposed to be unnaturally protective of his dear friend; three weeks ago, he’d actually snarled in the faces of two journalists who’d dared to ask a questions about Barnes’s suitability in regards to the team.

Maybe it would’ve been better had Tony sent someone else in. But who? The rest of the team were no more inclined to listen to Tony than Steve was. Since their return, he’d been besieged with constant muttered comments, jokes and jabs, and that was setting aside the outright hostility he’d encountered on more than one occasion. Tony wasn’t an enemy, but he was very clearly not a part of the team.

Barnes was, though. Oh yes. He’d slipped into the folds as easily as though he’d been there from day one. He and Natasha had been uneasy at first, but that soon melted away into a fierce kind of friendship. Wanda, Sam and Clint all got along fabulously with Barnes as well, particularly Clint: he’d even dared to bring Laura and the children around the tower to introduce them to Barnes. Even Vision was amenable to Barnes, though the two of them didn’t interact much.

The only person who didn’t get along with Barnes was Tony. He gripped his left arm again unconsciously, then winced when the bruises protested. That was Barnes’s favorite place to grab, after all. Barnes had developed a fondness for grabbing Tony’s upper left arm with his metal hand and then squeezing mercilessly, all while looming over Tony so that he could watch the minute shifts in Tony’s expression when the pain got to be too much.

“Boss,” FRIDAY said, and Tony looked up with a start. “I’ve compiled some footage. Perhaps if you showed it to Rogers, he would –”

“No,” Tony said immediately. God, he could just imagine the shitshow that would arise if he dared to show anyone the footage. Footage of Barnes threatening him in increasingly vivid ways (threatening not just Tony, but everyone: Pepper, Rhodey, Peter. The ‘bots. FRIDAY.). Footage of Barnes squeezing, pinching or slapping places that were hidden by clothing. Footage of Barnes being the monster HYDRA had made him out to be.

And all while Barnes, excellent actor that he was, pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes effortlessly. No one, save for Tony and FRIDAY, had any idea that Barnes was still a danger. Tony couldn’t blame them either, because even Tony was fooled at first. He’d fought for the right to get Barnes brought back to America. Fought for a fair trial. Fought to pin the blame where they all thought it belonged: on Hydra. 

Not that any of that had meant anything to Steve or the rest of the team, of course. They all acted like _of course_ Tony would fight for Barnes. _Of course_ Tony had realized the error of his ways. _Of course_ Tony would now be falling all over himself to make things up to the team, and _of course_ they had the right to use his money in the meantime, especially since all of them had been forced to sign the accords in the end.

 _Of course_ everything was Tony’s fault.

This was his fault too, Tony was certain. Someway, somehow, it would be his fault. He rubbed his face and sighed. If he made the footage public, the team would probably insist that Tony had goaded Barnes into acting that way. Or worse, knowing Steve, he’d accuse Tony of reverse engineering the B.A.R.F. system or something equally ridiculous. As though Tony’s biggest worry in life was making sure that Bucky Barnes paid for what the Winter Soldier had done.

No. Tony’s biggest worry at the moment was making sure that Barnes didn’t slit his throat in the middle of the night. Because where would that leave everyone else? Even Steve. There was zero doubt in Tony’s mind that Barnes would kill Steve in a heartbeat if he felt the need to. Or even just the desire to. Tony had looked into Barnes’s eyes in a dark corridor when all masks were stripped away: Barnes would do it, and he’d enjoy every second of it.

A small, ugly voice in the back of his head whispered that the team didn’t deserve his protection. That maybe Tony should just gather up the people who actually cared about him and keep them away from Barnes, while letting those who had been taken in by him and were too stupid to listen to Tony take their well deserved fall. Why should Tony put himself in continuous danger to protect people that disliked him at best?

Answer: because Tony would never forgive himself if Barnes hurt or killed someone. Not if there was a chance Tony could’ve stopped it. Even if it meant that the team hated him even more.

“I need a coffee,” he said out loud. There was an excellent chance he’d run into Barnes if he ventured upstairs, and Pepper would be thrilled if he willingly left the workshop for a little while, so… “FRIDAY, save everything. I’m going out for a bit.”

He stood up carefully, letting himself wince again since no one was around to see it. Between residual damage from the fight in Siberia and what Barnes was doing, Tony’s body was not a happy camper. He limped into the elevator and leaned against the wall, taking a moment to gather himself back together. Until he figured out how to handle this in a way that wouldn’t a) alienate Steve and the team completely, b) send Barnes off the deep end or c) end in Tony’s untimely and bloody death, he couldn’t risk anyone else getting suspicious. 

It turned out, though, that Barnes hadn’t taken option c off the table. Too bad Tony didn’t realize that until he was walking down the street, heading for his current favorite café, and occupied with talking to R&D. Barnes came up behind him and got that damned metal arm around his throat, and Tony didn’t have a chance. His last thought before he blacked out was how fucking _stupid_ he’d been in not realizing that the lack of bystanders, on a New York street in mid-day, should have been a blaring warning.

The pain in his broken wrist was actually what brought him around. He'd broken bones before, but his arm was _throbbing_. It took several long moments for him to figure out that it was because his arm was trapped under his body at an awkward angle. He bit his lip as he shifted his weight, slowly easing his arm out from under his midsection. 

That done, Tony looked around the room. He'd already guessed that he was alone, and he was correct: the room was empty. It was also completely bare, stripped of any weapons or electronics. At least Barnes wasn't underestimating him. His own tech was also gone, including his phone and his repulsor watch. His thigh was still intact, so Barnes hadn't caught on to the fact that there was a tracer embedded beneath the skin. 

He cupped a hand around the spot where the tracer was, pretending that the movement was to help support himself (because he was sure that he was being watched, somehow). The skin was hot to the touch and inflamed. That meant the tracker had been activated. Thank god for FRIDAY. She was definitely Tony's favorite girl and he was going to tell her that as soon as he got out of here. Now he just had to hope that someone - Rhodey, Vision, hell at this point he'd even take the witch or Barton - was on their way.

Some two hours later, the door - the only door - cracked open. Barnes sauntered in, wearing a smirk that made Tony really want to punch him in the face. He hung back though, not willing to put himself in reach. There was no question that Barnes was both stronger and faster, which meant that Tony had to be smarter. He let his hands hang loosely at his sides in the hopes of lulling Barnes into a false sense of complacency.

"If you wanted to chat, you could've just told me," Tony said, or tried to. The words came out as a weak rasp, barely intelligible, and it _burned_. 

Barnes's smirk widened. "Feeling some pain, Stark?" he asked with mock concern. "I've been wanting to shut you up for months. It felt so sweet to finally do it."

"Go fuck yourself," Tony mouthed at him. This was a problem. Barnes's attacks had always been under the clothes to keep anyone else from noticing. Tony couldn't see his own neck, obviously, but he was positive that there had to be extensive bruising around his neck, particularly his throat. If Barnes didn't care about wounds being in a visible place, then chances were he didn't plan on Tony ever getting back around someone who would notice.

"I was gonna just kill you at the tower," Barnes went on, slowly flexing the fingers of his metal hand. All for show, of course. That was Wakandan craftsmanship, which wouldn't cramp. The only thing better would've been if Tony himself had built the arm, which Tony had refused to do. He wished now more than ever that Wakanda had followed suit, but King T’Challa’s lingering guilt had led to Barnes getting the best arm possible.

“You changed your mind?” Tony said, unable to keep quiet. His voice broke in the middle of the word ‘changed’ so that the last two words were lost. But Barnes must have gotten the jist of it, because he shrugged.

“I like pullin’ the wool over Stevie’s eyes. He makes it so easy. So do the rest of ‘em, for that matter. Natalia and Barton are supposed to be master spies…” Barnes scoffed, rolling his eyes. “All I have to do is let Natalia flip me on the mat and she’s practically fallin’ all over herself to make sure I’m not havin’ some kind of relapse.”

Tony gritted his teeth. He wanted to point out that meant that Natasha actually cared about Barnes. But he suspected that all Barnes would do is laugh, and it would destroy his voice even more, so there was no point. Besides, Barnes kept right on talking.

“I figure I’ll stick around with ‘em for another coupl’a months. It’s a free ride. And as soon as you’re dead, there won’t be anyone to cast suspicion on me.” Barnes’s smile vanished, replaced with a serious, hungry look that made Tony’s stomach roll. “I warned you, Stark. You shouldn’t have said a word to Stevie. I was willin’ to let you live so long as you kept your mouth shut, but you can’t even do that. Now I have to kill ya. Can’t say I’m not lookin’ forward to it.”

He took a step forward, metal hand half-raised. Tony took a step backwards, bumping up against the wall. This was a losing fight, but he’d be damned if he went down without a fight – damned if he didn’t do _some_ damage to his parent’s murderer. His mother’s face, full of terror, flashed before his eyes and Tony seized the element of surprise. He lashed out with a solid kick.

Barnes was prepared and dodged, so that Tony’s heel just glanced off his midsection. He was wearing his armor, Tony realized, right before Barnes caught him in the stomach. Stars burst in front of his eyes and Tony gasped for breath; as the stars vanished, he found himself staring straight into Barnes’s eyes. They were ice cold, the eyes of a killer, and Barnes was _smiling_ as he grabbed Tony around the throat.

“Gonna kill you, Stark,” he whispered.

“The hell you will!” 

Tony registered the whine of a repulsor at the same time that Barnes did. Then suddenly Barnes was gone. Tony staggered, shocked, and glanced up just in time to see the War Machine armor following it up with a punch to the face. Suddenly the room was full of people: Natasha and Clint and Sam and Vision, all crowded around and asking a dozen questions all at once. Tony’s head spun and he pushed at them clumsily, slapping Natasha’s hands away when she tried to help.

“Bucky, stop!” Steve yelled, voice rising above the chaos. “Don’t do this! We can help you!”

Bucky didn’t answer. He got War Machine into a headlock and kicked out Steve. Steve got his shield up just in time, but the kick still launched him across the room. War Machine’s servos whirred loudly; he wrenched to the side and got his hand up against Barnes’s chest. Barnes let go of him quickly, just missing the next repulsor blast that went off.

Tony lost sight of them momentarily because of Natasha, who was still trying to help. He pushed her away, swallowed hard, and shouted, “It’s not the code words! It’s just Barnes!” His voice was a raspy squeak, but his message still got across. 

Steve stopped. “What? No! Bucky would never –”

“Fucking _shut up_!” Barnes snarled, apparently losing his temper. He backhanded Steve across the face, then turned on War Machine. He never saw Vision, who floated up through the floor behind him. A single touch to Barnes’s forehead and he dropped like a stone, unconscious.

Everything stopped except for the sound of rough breathing. Steve, standing above his best friend’s body, looked at Tony with horrified disbelief written across his face. “No,” he said again.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony was taken away by SHIELD medical before Steve got the chance to talk to him, but that right there told Steve just how hurt Tony was – because Tony _hated_ medical with a passion, and would use every excuse in the book to get out of going to see them. Rhodes and Vision went with him, though not before Rhodes sent Steve a few particularly dark glares that spoke of an unpleasant conversation in Steve’s near future.

Not that Steve could blame him. He’d shown everyone the ATM footage. Rhodes had been _pissed_. And from what Steve had seen, they’d barely gotten there in time. He couldn’t get the vision of Bucky with his hand around Tony’s throat out of his head. The fear and resignation that had been visible on Tony’s face in that moment was painted across Steve’s brain. It was a little too close to the look on Tony’s face when Steve lifted the shield up in Sokovia.

“It can’t have been Bucky,” Steve said numbly. SHIELD agents had taken Bucky into custody under Fury’s direction. They would have to make their way to the helicarrier to figure out what was gone on.

Natasha and Sam exchanged looks. Then Sam said slowly, “Steve…”

“What?” He looked up at them. His heart started to race when he saw how grave Natasha looked. She silently held out her phone.

The footage had obviously been taken from the tower. Not only was it crisp and clear, but the surroundings were always familiar. Steve watched in silent shock, barely reacting as Clint and Wanda crowded in around him so that they could see too. Scene after scene of Bucky putting his hands on Tony. Slapping him. Pinching him. Punching him. Pinning Tony up against the wall. The violence was always paired with threats, words that made Steve’s stomach churn because he couldn't believe they were coming out of Bucky's mouth.

It went on and on until Steve put up a trembling hand. Natasha stopped the video. There was quiet for a long moment. Steve closed his eyes, but now he had even more images crowded into his head. Tony had been wearing so many different outfits, and the lighting had changed multiple times. How could this – and he couldn’t bring himself to put a name to what ‘this’ was – have been going on for so long without Steve noticing?

“What the hell is this?” Clint said, voicing the question Steve couldn’t say.

“FRIDAY sent it to my phone. It’s compiled footage from the past six months,” Natasha told them. “She said that Tony told her she couldn’t show it to you, Steve, but that he’d never said anything about the rest of us.” She smiled bleakly. “I verified the footage, Steve. It’s real.”

“Stark must have done something to deserve it,” Wanda said.

“What?” Sam said.

“He must’ve done something to Bucky. There’s no way Bucky would’ve… right, Steve?” She looked at Steve with hope in her eyes, wanting Steve to back her up. To confirm that Bucky was still the victim here somehow, and that Tony was at fault.

Steve just stared at her.

“Tony,” Natasha said, very quietly, “didn’t do anything. Weren’t you listening?” She shoved the phone under Wanda’s nose until Wanda had no choice but to look at it. “The Bucky Barnes we thought we knew doesn’t exist. It was all just a big act. He was playing us.” She sounded disgusted. “He wanted us all to think that he was helpless so he could do whatever he wanted right under our noses, and we fell for it. He’s Hydra.”

“No,” Steve said automatically. “That’s the Winter Soldier. Bucky wouldn’t –”

“Steve, _enough_ ,” Natasha ordered. “Every time you open your mouth, it’s “Bucky wouldn’t do this” and “Bucky wouldn’t do that”. You said it yourself, it hasn’t been the Winter Soldier since Berlin.” Her eyes were burning. “This isn’t a rampage. It’s not the code words. This was sneaky and underhanded. It’s systematic, slow torture that took place over months. So maybe it’s time to accept that Bucky is dead, and the man left behind is a murderer who was going to kill your teammate.”

He couldn’t listen to it. He just couldn’t. He pushed past, stumbling out of the room. Behind him, he heard Natasha and Clint break out into furious whispering. It was easy to flag down a SHIELD agent and request a drive back to the helicarrier. The agent was all too happy to give Captain America a ride, but was thankfully quiet during the journey. Steve spent the ride staring out the window, thoughts buzzing.

Bucky couldn’t – he just _couldn’t_ \- but the evidence staring him in the face… _Tony’s_ face. Steve swallowed hard again, tasting vomit. He couldn’t help remembering back to that scene in the kitchen. Tony had wanted to talk. He’d been rubbing his left arm like it pained him, and there'd been so many videos where Bucky grabbed that exact spot. Had Tony wanted to talk about Bucky? Talk about how Bucky was _hurting_ him? _Threatening_ him?

Because Tony hadn’t said a damn word before that. And Steve… Steve had taken pleasure out of rubbing Bucky in Tony’s face. Had enjoyed the fact that Tony had to accept Bucky’s presence in the tower along with the rest of them. Steve looked back at that man now and wondered when and how he had become so fucking spiteful. It was the kind of behavior his ma would’ve tanned him for.

They reached the helicarrier, and Steve spilled out and marched inside. People got out of his way. He knew where they would put Bucky, because there weren’t many prison cells that could hold a supersoldier, but there was one that could hold a Hulk. He made it to the exterior room just in time to see the team of agents depositing Bucky inside. The last one out closed and sealed the door.

“Does he need medical attention?” Steve asked. They ignored him. He made a grab for one of them, saying, “Hey, I asked –”

“Hands off, Rogers!” Fury barked. Steve hadn’t even seen the director come in. He was flanked by Maria Hill and another woman that Steve didn’t recognize. 

“All I asked was if he needed medical attention,” Steve said tightly.

“From what I hear, Stark is the one you should be concerned about,” said Fury. The implication – that even after all this, Steve was here and not where Tony was – rankled.

Steve set his jaw. “I need answers. This seems like the best place to get them.”

Fury studied him briefly, then nodded. “Hill.”

Hill moved to the controls and pressed a button. The ground inside the tank rippled and pulsed with some kind of energy; there was a low, whining hum in the air that made Steve’s teeth ache. Bucky came awake with a start, jumping to his feet in a move almost too fast to follow. He swung around to face them, and for a split second Steve saw the same look on his face that he’d seen when he followed Rhodes into that room and saw Bucky standing over Tony: a cold malevolence.

But it was gone just as quick, melting away into the same Bucky that Steve thought he knew. Bucky blinked at them. “Stevie? What’s going on?”

And Steve wanted to believe in that, in him, so badly that he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Fury didn’t have that problem. He said, “You have some very serious charges laid against you, Barnes. New charges, which you won’t be able to weasel out of so easily.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Bucky said. 

“Cut the crap. We saw the footage. We know what you’ve been doing.”

Fury knew? Just how many people had Natasha passed that footage along to? When had she found the time? For a moment, Steve was swamped by frustration. Didn’t she know how bad that would make Bucky look? And then, like a bucket of cold water dumped on his head, he was appalled at himself. If Bucky truly was dangerous, didn’t Natasha have every right to send that footage around?

Bucky surveyed them, then zeroed in on Steve. “Stevie? Surely you don’t think…”

Steve’s jaw worked soundlessly for a few seconds. His throat was hoarse when he finally forced a reply out. “Tell us the truth, Buck. Please.” It came out far close to begging than he’d intended. He would’ve given anything, even the serum, to have Bucky profess his innocence.

Instead, his plea was met with a calculating look, like Bucky was trying to assess whether or not he could pull the wool over their eyes any longer. Steve’s heart sank straight through the floor. It felt like his whole world was falling apart around him as he watched Bucky come to the conclusion that there was no running away from this. The seeds of doubt had been planted, and even if Bucky walked out of here a free man, he’d be monitored extremely closely by everyone involved.

The mask vanished as though it had never existed. Bucky folded his arms across his chest. “Had you goin’ for a while there, didn’t I?” he taunted. 

“It was all a lie, wasn’t it?” Fury said steadily. 

Bucky shrugged. “Not all of it. I did have those dumb code words in my brain. Stark helped me get rid of those.” He smirked when he spoke Tony’s name, rubbing a thumb over his bottom lip. “Mighty nice makin’ my own decisions again. Decidin’ who I wanted to kill, not just who Hydra pointed me at.”

“Bucky,” Steve said, aghast.

“Don’t look so horrified, Stevie. What’d ya expect? Guy doesn’t kill for seventy-odd years without developin’ some kinda taste for it.” Bucky smiled then, and it was _awful_. Like looking a stranger who had been pretending to be his best friend.

"You lied to me," Steve said. 

"Did I?" Bucky asked. "You never asked me if I enjoyed killin', or if I ever did anything because I wanted to do it. You just assumed that everything had happened because of Hydra. There's a reason I ran away from you. I figured you'd see straight through me. But then, when I realized you were fallin' for it..." He shrugged again. "Made for an easy trip back into New York, kept outta Hydra's reach and out of prison, and you forced Stark to take me in to boot."

"I thought we were helping you!" Steve exclaimed.

"You were. You helped lots." Bucky cackled, which was such an ugly sound that Steve recoiled. "You gave me money and months to play with Stark right under your nose. You should'a seen the way he was flinching by the end of it. All I had to do was walk by him and give him the right look and he'd practically wet himself in fear."

Steve was going to throw up. He was so full of emotion he could barely stand it. "How... how could you?"

"It's real easy. Slap 'em 'round a few times and people will do whatever you want. Stark's no different. Thanks to you." He smiled at Steve, eyes mocking. "He's scared of ya, ya know. Won't ever admit it, but it's true. I can smell it on him whenever you're in the room. Thinks you're gonna lose it one day and finish what you started."

"That's..." Steve took a step back. "I would never!"

"Really?" Bucky prowled closer, until he was right up against the glass. "Dunno 'bout that. I see the way you look at him sometimes. There's so much _anger_ in you, Cap. So much rage. It's beautiful. The way you tore him apart in Siberia, ooh!" He pretended to shiver. "It was somethin' spectacular. You should let that side of you out to play more often. We could be good together, you 'n me."

"You're wrong. You're - you're _wrong_ ," Steve choked out.

"Am I? You blame Stark for everythin'. Bet you wanted to blame him for this too, didn't ya?" Bucky cackled again when Steve flinched. "That's what I thought." He glanced at Fury and Hill, then leaned forward until his lips brushed the glass. His voice grew softer, more intimate. "They're probably gonna send me to prison now. Bet they've got a bunch of their little techs lookin' up all my deeds right now."

He didn't need to look at Fury to know that was true. And the knowledge that Bucky seemed very proud of whatever Fury was going to find weighed heavily on Steve's shoulders. Despite that, he looked into Bucky's face, helpless to do anything but stand there and listen. Bucky's lips parted and he slowly licked them, and then he smiled and said, in a sweet voice:

"You look me up, Stevie, whenever you get tired of Stark. We'll do him in together. Till the end of the line, right?"

It was cowardly, but Steve couldn't stand to look this _monster_ in the eyes for another second. He fled the room with the sound of Bucky's mocking laughter following him. He stumbled blindly down the halls until he came across an empty conference room. He darted inside and slammed the door behind him, flipping the lock. Then he slumped to the ground, back pressed to the door, and pressed his hands over his face.

How could he have been so wrong?


	4. Chapter 4

"You're a lucky man, Mr. Stark."

"Funny. I don't feel very lucky."

Dr. Josephine Taylor smiled at Tony's comment, but just as quickly her expression became grave again. "Broken wrist and a two broken fingers on the same hand," she said, checking her tablet. "Plus bruising to your internal organs. You were fortunate that you didn't have any internal bleeding, but we're going to continue monitoring you for blood in your urine. And based on the footage I saw, you were strangled for approximately fifteen seconds. Scans of your neck indicate that you have a lot of bruising and swelling, so we're going to be holding you for at least the next three nights to make sure that the swelling doesn't increase. At the moment, it looks like you shouldn't have any lasting damage so long as you _stop talking_."

Tony blinked up at her and mimed zipping his lips shut. Dr. Taylor shot him an unamused look.

"I'm serious. Your throat needs the chance to rest. You could end up with problems if you don't exercise the right amount of caution. You also," she continued, because of course that wasn't the end of it, "have a fracture in the upper portion of your left arm. You have extensive bruising all over your back, midsection, upper torso and all down your legs in various stages of healing. On top of all that, you have a broken ankle in your left leg, a fractured right tibia, and two of the toes on your right foot are broken. You also have three cracked ribs and four broken ribs. Plus you have a concussion. Did I miss anything?"

Not that Tony could see. His whole body was one solid ache even with the strong pain medication that was being pumped into him. That was what he got for trying to go toe to toe with a supersolider when he wasn't wearing the armor anymore. He shook his head slightly, then winced as pain radiated up the back of his head. Dr. Taylor sighed and grabbed the mechanism that controlled his medication. She hit the arrow a couple of times, watching closely until the tension in Tony's body slowly faded.

"There you go," she said softly, tucking the tablet. "Now, I have to go make some rounds. But Colonel Rhodes has given me a list of people who are permitted to be in your room. Right now, the names include Pepper Potts, Peter Parker, Vision, Colonel Rhodes himself, and Happy Hogan. Does that sound correct?"

Tony gave her a thumbs up. 

"Good. I believe Ms. Potts is waiting outside for you. I'll let her in."

That was actually the last thing Tony wanted, but he couldn't move fast enough to stop the doctor. She was already turning away when he lifted his hand. Tony watched, resigned, as Dr. Taylor walked over to the door and slipped out. There was barely twenty seconds between her departure and Pepper's entrance, but it felt like an eternity. His stomach squirmed with discomfort as Pepper walked into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. In that moment, all Tony could think was that even when she looked like a tearful wreck, she was beautiful. 

"Oh Tony," she said, her eyes bright with tears. "Are you okay?"

He gave her a thumbs up, too. Pepper laughed a little and walked over to the bed. She kicked off her heels and sat down on the edge. Tony immediately squirmed over to give her enough space to lean against the pillow. They weren't together anymore, and he wasn't foolish enough to think that this would be the thing that changed Pepper's mind. If anything, she was probably relieved that it was just her friend in the hospital bed and not her boyfriend or husband. As hard as it was, he couldn't fault her for that. But at the same time, if she wanted to fuss over him he wasn't going to complain.

She put a hand on his head and gently combed her fingers through his hair. "Rhodey told me what happened. He showed me some of the footage. Tony, why didn't you say anything?"

Tony shrugged, then winced again. Yeah, he'd almost forgotten how painful broken ribs could be. Pepper felt his wince and sighed.

"I know why you didn't say anything," she muttered. "Because you thought there might still be a way to fix it. To fix him."

He wanted to argue that. Would've if his throat didn't feel like a thousand bees were repeatedly stinging him every time he went to speak. But it would've been pointless. Pepper was right and they both knew it. Even after all this time and all the bullshit Tony had put up with from the team, he still wanted to be the one who could make everything work. And knowing that he couldn't be that person was a definite blow to his pride. He couldn't even fix things with Steve. Tony was pretty sure that Steve loathed him now, and he couldn't find it in himself to care the way he should've. He was just done. With all of them.

He turned his face into Pepper's shirt. The fabric was soft and smelled like her favorite perfume. The tears burned hotly at his eyes, but he knew Pepper would forgive him for ruining her blouse. The fingers petting his neck confirmed that.

\---

It was a full five days before Tony was released from the hospital. He could talk again, but his voice sounded like he'd been chain-smoking for years. Dr. Taylor warned him repeatedly to not over-do it before she sent him on his way. Tony chafed at being taken downstairs in a wheelchair like an invalid when he was perfectly capable of walking, but Vision took doctor's orders annoyingly seriously. And Dr. Taylor had told him that until he was more steady on his feet, he wasn't supposed to be using crutches to get around.

"Look at it this way. You and the colonel now make a matched pair," Vision pointed out.

"That's not super comforting, Vis," Tony said with a sigh, though he appreciated the attempt at levity. He leaned heavily on Vision as he stood up, pain sparking through every inch of him at the slightest of moves. It was a relief to slide into the car and rest his aching muscles. Vision put the wheelchair into the trunk and then got in beside him. Happy pulled away from the curb.

"Peter was asking how you were doing," Happy said. He was making it a point to drive as smoothly as possible. "I told him you were okay. He said he wanted to come by and see you, but I told him to wait for a couple of weeks."

"Thanks," Tony said. He hadn't even thought about Peter. God, he'd have to give the kid a call and make sure he wasn't freaking out too much. And that was after he dealt with the team. Just the thought of all the uncomfortable interactions ahead of him made Tony want to jump out of the car before it got to the tower. But he couldn't, of course. The tower was his home. He'd be damned before any of the Avengers drove him out of it.

It was kind of weird to be wheeled into the tower and know that Barnes was no longer there. Even with Vision standing behind him – and Barnes had never been stupid enough to approach Tony when Vision, Pepper, Peter or Rhodey was around – Tony still twitched at every shape that moved in his peripheral vision. He had to keep reminding himself that Barnes was gone.

“Are you okay with going to the communal floor, or would you prefer your private floor?” Vision asked once they were in the elevator.

“I notice you didn’t offer up the workshop as an option.”

“Ms. Potts informed me that you were not permitted back in the workshop until the doctor says otherwise,” Vision said serenely, and he sounded so much like JARVIS that it ached. 

“Doctors are overrated,” Tony said, but waved a hand. He could fight that battle later. “The communal floor is fine. Might as well get it over with.” He couldn’t help clenching his hands around the wheelchair’s armrests, though. Interactions with the team were never fun now, but this was probably going to be just short of a war.

The elevator began to move. Tony’s heart pounded harder with every floor they passed. He was immeasurably grateful that Vision was beside him as the doors opened. The first faces he saw were that of Clint and Natasha. Both of them were sitting on the couch. Sam was there too, Tony noticed a second later, but he was sitting in the chair and had to twist around to look at Tony. No one said anything.

“Hi,” Natasha said finally, her face creased with concern. 

“Hi,” Tony said slowly. He remembered pushing her hands away. He hadn’t been sure whether she was trying to help or… He let that thought die as Vision pushed his wheelchair forward. Interestingly, he noticed that Clint’s face had gone white as he looked at the wheelchair.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’ve been better,” Tony said flatly. No lasting damage, the doctor had said, but he had injuries he didn’t even remember getting. He couldn’t explained how his legs were broken for the life of him, but he was realizing now that his memories of the fight with Barnes were sketchy at best. And he was practically back to where he started when he'd come home from Siberia in terms of physical therapy. He didn’t relish the thought of the weeks ahead of him.

“You’re in a wheelchair,” Clint said blankly.

“Astute observation, Hawkeye,” Tony said, not without sarcasm, as Vision pushed him further into the room. “That’s what happens when a supersoldier uses you as his personal punching bag.”

They all flinched. Tony blinked at them and then, with a flash of emotion he couldn’t identify, realized what was happening. “You saw some of the footage.”

“FRIDAY showed it to me,” Natasha admitted immediately. “I showed everyone else.” She didn’t apologize, but met Tony’s eyes with a steady expression. She wasn’t sorry.

Tony exhaled slowly, not sure how to respond to that. It was a blow to his pride, for certain. He hated the thought that all of these people had seen him acting like a coward. He’d have words with FRIDAY about it later. For now… “Did Cap see it?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “SHIELD took Barnes into custody.”

“And let me guess, Cap is over there fighting to free his bestie,” Tony said.

“No.”

Tony stiffened, his heart skipping a couple of beats out of fright at the sound of an unexpected, not entirely welcome, voice coming to his right. He turned his head, looking at Steve. A surge of anger immediately choked out the fear when he saw the pathetic, beaten down look on Steve’s face. Steve had _no right_ to look that way, not after everything Barnes had done.

“No?” Tony repeated. “Really? No ‘Bucky didn’t know what he was doing’? Or ‘Bucky is innocent’? Or better yet, ‘it was all the Winter Soldier and Tony is crazy for having some misgivings’?” He couldn’t keep the caustic tone out of his voice. Steve should have paid attention. He should have _noticed_. 

“Tony,” Natasha said softly.

Steve looked at him. “No. I saw the footage. And – and I talked to Bucky. I know it was him.”

Tony had to wonder how that talk had gone. “Good for you. Glad you finally see the light.”

“Tony –”

“I don’t want to hear it. He –” ‘killed my parents’, Tony didn’t say, because that would only open up old wounds and put Steve on the defense, so he went with, “- threatened everyone I care about. Pepper. Rhodey. Peter. Vision. For _months_ , Steve! Right under your goddamn nose! Tell me, did you even read the terms of his release? Did you even care that he was released into _your_ supervision and that you were supposed to keep an eye on him?!”

“Of course I cared,” Steve said. “Bucky is – he’s a great actor –”

This time, Natasha said, “Steve.” And Steve fell silent.

“A great actor,” Tony said. He wanted to laugh, or maybe cry. “That, and you hated me so much you didn’t give a shit so long as Barnes was his sweet innocent around you.”

“I don’t hate you!” Steve exclaimed, looking horrified at the accusation. Sam, Natasha and Clint nodded in agreement, and suddenly Tony thought he knew why Wanda wasn’t here. He was positive he would’ve known her response to that statement. Probably the only honest response. 

“Sure you don’t,” Tony said. He was too damn tired, too old, too worn down, for this. “I don’t really care anymore.”

“Tony.” Steve took a step towards him. “I’m sorry. I’m so –”

Tony cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“But Tony –”

“I think I’d like to go upstairs,” Tony said loudly, speaking over Steve. “Would you mind, Vis?”

Vision reacted immediately, bless him, pulling the wheelchair back into the elevator. The doors closed on Steve’s face. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as Tony wanted it to be. But then, what kind of satisfaction could be derived from a situation like this? He couldn’t even be happy that his parent’s murderer was behind bars, because fucking Steve was devestated and Tony had been lying; he didn’t want to care, but he did and he hated that.

Rhodey had been furious. He’d lost it on Steve, Tony knew, though he hadn’t been told all the details. Rhodey thought he should kick the team out and be done with it. Rhodey was probably right. But Tony honestly didn’t know what to do now. He just felt so… numb inside. Even the brief flashes of rage or grief or fear didn’t reach deep enough to impact him where it mattered. He was just… empty.

“I’m really tired,” Tony whispered, like it was a shameful secret, because it was, and he wished that JARVIS was there to hear it, instead of Vision, but he had to make do with what he had. 

“Then you should rest,” Vision said.

“Rest. Yeah.” Tony closed his eyes, thinking of everything that had to be done. All the people with ruffled feathers that needed to be soothed, all the security systems that would need to be revamped since Barnes knew how they worked, all of the prep that needed to be in place before Barnes went to trial (if he went to trial, because he’d never signed the Accords and Tony would be okay if he was just thrown into a hole in the ground) and the media caught wind of what had happened.

He pressed a shaking hand to his head. Rest. He barely knew the meaning of the word anymore. He tried to smile as the doors opened to reveal Rhodey and Pepper, but he didn’t think they were fooled. But if he thought he was going to work, he was mistaken: Pepper hustled him into bed, and then got on the phone with the Accords Council and Fury. Rhodey stationed himself outside Tony’s room like a guard, mouth set in a furious line. Vision settled himself in a corner of the room and began to talk to FRIDAY.

And Tony… Tony let himself fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm open to returning to this verse at some point, maybe as a sequel where Bucky escapes or something like that (possibly even where he teams up with Wanda and they go after Tony? idk).

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
